


burn a fire in my flesh (cause your love's so cold i see my breath)

by IceImagines



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (almost hypothermia), F/F, Hypothermia, bad methods of dealing with hypothermia, emotionally illiterate messes, femslash feb, fwb to girlfriends????? maybe?????, hello lgbt community i wrote you some sweet sweet angst, pro tip: install heating in ur ancient french lake castle, prompt 3: "lost", sombra nearly dies of horny, widow struggles with her own feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 10:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17661143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceImagines/pseuds/IceImagines
Summary: Château Guillard always felt emptier in the winter.





	burn a fire in my flesh (cause your love's so cold i see my breath)

**Author's Note:**

> title from winter by pvris, go check them out if u don't know them the singers a lesbian
> 
> prompt fill for day 3 of femslash february: "lost" 
> 
> a day late but i did my best to crank this out as fast as possible. danni said its good pls read it
> 
> warnings for a character almost becoming hypothermic, discussions of possible heart attacks, drinking, nudity, and non explicit sexual content. 
> 
> soundtrack for this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XUOdHd3FqM

Château Guillard always felt emptier in the winter. The sharp whistling of the icy wind in the open hallways and the cloudy grey sky somehow made the ancient building seem infinitely more lonely, infinitely more dead. Even the waves of the lake around it lacked fervor as they weakly lapped against the frozen edges of the water. 

The spider in the dining room window had died months ago. Widowmaker remembered finding its corpse hanging dead in its web one morning, frost creeping up on the outside of the glass. She thought that there should have been some part of her that mourned the small animal, but she had only stood there and stared, unable to bring herself to feel anything. 

The thermometer on one of the balconies showed her how it grew colder and colder, but to her, there was no difference. She‘d stand on the balcony in a thin robe and look over the frozen lake and not even a shiver would run down her spine. Nothing. She didn‘t know why she had the thermometer. Sombra had to have brought it along during one of her visits. But then again, Widowmaker didn‘t know why Sombra kept coming, either. She never gave her a reason, just smiled that crooked smile of hers and took the wine bottle from her hands and whispered into her ear how beautiful she was. 

Widowmaker found herself longing for the shudder that she knew should have been running through her. She could drown it out sometimes if she pulled Sombra close enough, soaked up enough of her warmth until Sombra inevitably vanished again. She always left. Widowmaker supposed it was in her nature. 

During the winter months, Sombra visited less and less often. Widowmaker thought she didn‘t like the cold, though she had never said so. Widowmaker stared down at her own hands and wondered whether Sombra had to suppress a flinch every time she touched her.

Widowmaker sat at the top of the staircase, eyes fixated on the painting hanging across from her. Gérard‘s face looked down on her, his smile infinitely serene in a way that almost seemed mocking. The woman in his arms was a frail looking thing, a beaming smile on her pretty face, golden brown skin, hazel eyes. A white dress. Roses clutched in her delicate hands. 

Widowmaker silently mouthed the name to herself, over and over again. _Amélie. Amélie. Amélie._

It felt wrong. Foreign. All she could think of was Gérard‘s dead face staring up at her when she spoke it, how the blood had soaked the sheets underneath him. It had felt warm as it coated her hands, painted them red. 

Now her hands were blue and ice cold. She could see her breath in small white puffs in front of her, but she wasn‘t shaking when she picked up the bottle next to her and lifted it to her lips. Very faintly she felt tiny ice crystals on her tongue as she drank. It must have been colder than she thought. 

Gérard smiled, and kept smiling as darkness started to settle around her, the wind blowing through the halls picking up and ruffling her hair. The single candle on its mount on the wall flickered before extinguishing. Widowmaker couldn‘t bring herself to care. 

She didn‘t recall when she‘d sat down here. She tried to come up with reasons to get up, but couldn‘t think of a single thing. What was waiting for her at the bottom of these stairs? In the cellar where she got her wine, some of it so old that it tasted like vinegar but at least it tasted like _something_? Or on the floor above her, in the Château‘s single tower, in her bedroom? Sheets made of silk that slipped out of her grip? Perfumes on her dresser that froze in their bottles? 

And more of this darkness that she felt like a sick stench in her nose, like she was breathing it in with every slow rise and fall of her chest. 

A faint fizzling sound. A purple flicker. Then, suddenly, a shape materialized next to Widowmaker, small and crouched down, and a smirk plastered over a slim face lit in the pink glow of the metal strips scoring the side of her head. 

„ _Buenas tardes, araña._ “ 

Widowmaker hadn‘t been expecting her appearance. It had been weeks since she‘d come here. 

„What are you doing here?“

Sombra made a face. „Geez, I missed you too.“ 

„You didn‘t seem like you did when you left for over a month.“ Widowmaker was surprised at her own words. She almost sounded bitter. She wasn‘t, though. She didn‘t think so. 

Sombra didn‘t seem offended, anyway. She grinned again, tangled her fingers in Widowmaker‘s hair and pulled her in for a deep kiss that almost made Widowmaker‘s heart beat. Almost.

„I‘m sorry“, she murmured against her lips. Widowmaker wasn‘t sure whether she believed her, but did it really matter? It wouldn‘t make Sombra stay longer. Widowmaker knew what the woman was here for, could tell from the way she moaned lowly into her mouth, the way she moved and climbed into Widowmaker‘s lap, pressing herself close. She was warm, so, so warm, even through the layers of clothing that separated them. Sombra was in her tactical gear, though Widowmaker could not fathom why. Maybe she wanted to be ready, just in case. Just in case Widowmaker snapped and Sombra found herself with her hands around her throat. Widowmaker wondered how many translocators she had planted, far enough away from here to escape, should she need to. 

Somehow, she felt intangible even as Widowmaker wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her closer, almost desperately. Like a part of her was never really there. Maybe that was why she always left. 

Still, Widowmaker found herself unable to resist Sombra as she got up, grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs after her. Maybe she shouldn‘t have known the way to Widowmaker‘s bedroom so well by now, but Widowmaker didn‘t have the time to agonize over it. Sombra shoved her against the curved stone wall, already unbuckling her own jacket with shaking, impatient hands, her mouth hot against Widowmaker‘s own. The jacket fell to the floor with a thud. Widowmaker‘s hands found Sombra‘s hips, digging into the soft flesh. Only when her fingers brushed the bare skin at Sombra‘s waist did she feel the goosebumps, how Sombra shivered under touch, and it wasn‘t out of pleasure. 

The balcony doors were still open. Widowmaker never bothered to close them. 

She broke the kiss, trying to push Sombra away from her, but her grasp on Widow‘s shoulders wouldn‘t budge. Her dark blue eyes were cloudy with lust when she blinked them open, her brow creased in confusion.

„ _Araña_ \- what...“

„It‘s too cold“, Widowmaker bit out, forcing the words across her tongue. „We can‘t... it‘s not safe for you.“ 

Sombra laughed breathlessly. „Oh, come on, it‘s not that bad. You really think I can‘t stand a little cold?“ She leaned in to kiss her again, but Widowmaker turned her head away. 

„My wine was freezing in the bottle, Sombra. It‘s not just a little cold.“ 

Sombra plucked at the neckline of Widowmaker‘s robe. „Yet look who‘s waltzing around in nothing but this scrap of fabric.“ 

„You know I don‘t feel it.“

„Then how can you be sure it‘s that bad? Maybe you were just imagining the ice in your wine...“ Sombra‘s lips ghosted along Widow‘s jawline, the touch featherlight. Despite herself, she found herself tipping her head to the side to grant Sombra better access. She was so terribly warm under her hands. It made Widowmaker‘s head swim. 

„It‘s not safe“, she weakly repeated. Sombra took a step back and pulled her shirt over her head in one swift motion. She was wearing nothing underneath. 

„Let me be the judge of that.“ 

Widowmaker‘s resistance crumbled like a house of cards. 

Sombra barely let go of her long enough to close the balcony doors. It didn‘t end up mattering much, anyway. The room barely warmed up over the course of the next hour, no matter how much Sombra writhed underneath Widowmaker, the moans spilling from her lips the sweetest sound Widowmaker had ever heard. She hated how much she longed for them. Hated how she felt her heart beat when Sombra sank her teeth into her neck and soothed the bite with soft kisses, whispering something in Spanish into her ear that she didn‘t understand and didn‘t want to. 

Hated how Sombra trembled in her arms when it was over, even after Widowmaker drew the blankets over them. Selfishly she pressed herself close to Sombra, soaking up her warmth, draining it from her sweat slick body. Sombra said nothing, and Widowmaker didn‘t have the courage to do it instead. Exhaustion began to settle over her, heavy like lead, and before soon she felt herself begin to drift off. 

But before sleep could completely claim her, she felt Sombra stirring under her arm. 

„ _Araña?_ “ The shaky whisper dissipated some of the fog over Widowmaker‘s mind. She opened her eyes and saw that Sombra had not moved, still lying there with her back to Widowmaker. Her neural implants were the only source of light in the pitch black room. 

Sombra was still shaking. Harder now than before. 

„ _Chérie_ , are you-“

„I‘m really cold.“ The words were so quiet Widowmaker could barely hear her, but it was enough. A horrible sense of dread settled deep in her gut as she pushed herself up and leaned over Sombra to look at her. It was hard to tell in what little pink-tinted light there was, but her lips looked cracked and blue. 

For just one moment, Widowmaker panicked. She didn‘t think Sombra was going into hypothermia, not yet, but she would if Widowmaker didn‘t warm her up fast, and there was nothing that could possibly help with that in the entire building, no heating, no warm clothes, no hot water bottles. Nothing. 

Except... the shower. 

Which was a terrible idea. Widowmaker knew that immersing a hypothermic person in warm water could be excruciatingly painful and even lead to the heart stopping. 

But there was nothing else she could do. And maybe it would be alright if she turned the temperature up slowly, if she paid close attention... if she acted fast enough before Sombra actually became hypothermic... 

She had to try. 

Widowmaker hastily climbed off the bed, scooped a shivering Sombra up into her arms and carried her out of the room and across the hallway. She barely seemed to weigh anything in spite of the metal grafted to her spine. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she couldn‘t speak. 

Widowmaker pushed the bathroom door open with her leg, then set Sombra down on the edge of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around her quivering shoulders while she turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm up enough to get in. It always took so long here. Widowmaker sometimes just showered with the cold water, she could hardly feel it. But putting Sombra under water that was just a few degrees short of freezing over was the last thing that would help now.

It felt like an eternity passed until the shower spray had warmed up, at least Widowmaker thought it had; she could never really be sure. But looking at Sombra, huddled into her towel, face twisted with a horrible mix of pain, fear and exhaustion, she knew she couldn‘t wait any longer. 

Widowmaker peeled the towel away from Sombra with a little effort - she didn‘t want to let go of it - then picked her up again and carried her into the shower. Sombra flinched hard when the water first hit her skin, burying her face in Widowmaker‘s shoulder. 

„Is it too hot?“, Widowmaker asked, trying not to let it show in her voice how something horrible seemed to claw at the inside of her chest at the idea that she was somehow harming Sombra more than she already had. 

„Yes... n-no. Ah- I‘m not sure. Everything feels... feels hot right now.“ 

„Okay.“ Widowmaker crouched down with Sombra still in her arms, setting her down on her floor and intending to pull away but Sombra wouldn‘t let go of her.

„Sombra, I‘ll make you colder if I keep touching you.“ There was a tremble in her voice. She had no idea where it came from. Sombra didn‘t reply, just dug her fingers harder into Widowmaker‘s shoulders. So she stayed where she was, kneeling on the shower floor, arms wrapped around a shaking Sombra, a thousand voices screaming at her inside her head. 

„If it hurts too much...“ Her voice broke midway through the sentence. Sombra weakly shook her head. 

„N-not more than the cold.“ 

After a few minutes, her shaking started to calm down a little. It was still there, but not as bad as it had been earlier. So Widowmaker turned the water temperature up a little more. Sombra pressed herself closer to her. Widowmaker could have sworn that she felt tears where Sombra had buried her face in her neck, but the water made it hard to distinguish. Her own eyes were burning strangely. She squeezed them shut tightly and swallowed the feeling down. 

Time seemed to have stopped to a crawl. Widowmaker flinched every time Sombra inhaled a little too sharply, every time she seemed to tremble just a little harder. She kept expecting her to double over in pain, clutching her chest, eyes wide. But nothing happened. Sombra calmed down a little more every time Widowmaker turned the temperature up. Her heartbeat was steady and strong close to Widowmaker‘s ear. Eventually, the pressure of Sombra‘s fingers at Widowmaker‘s back started to ease up, and she settled herself back, leaning against the shower wall and closing her eyes. 

„Are you feeling better?“ Widowmaker‘s voice sounded horribly small. Sombra nodded.

„Yeah. Much better.“ 

Widowmaker exhaled sharply. Only now did she notice how every muscle in her body had been tensed up, how she‘d been holding her breath. 

„I‘m sorry.“

Sombra stared at her. She looked confused. „Sorry? For what? Spider, you might have just saved my life.“

„This never would have happened if it wasn‘t for me. I should have told you no... or at least made sure you wouldn‘t get so cold... instead of just lying there and letting you almost become hypothermic.“ Widowmaker was surprised by the amount of force behind her own words. She felt her bottom lip trembling. She bit down on it to suppress it.

„No, no, no.“ Sombra reached out and grabbed Widowmaker‘s face. Her hands were warm again, her eyes clear when they locked onto Widowmaker‘s own. „This was no one‘s fault but my own. I‘m the one out of the two of us who was being stupid. I mean, you told me your wine had almost been freezing over, and I didn‘t even listen.“ She gave a short, tired sounding laugh. „You know, I‘ve been told I‘m too horny for my own good before, but I never thought it was going to come back to bite me in the ass like this.“ 

Her laugh broke something within Widowmaker. Abruptly, a loud sob escaped her, and she buried her face in her hands. That clawing feeling deep in her chest had suddenly become overwhelming. Like something was going to break through her skin and climb out of the gaping hole it had left behind. 

Sombra‘s laugh was beautiful, a deep, raspy sound, raw and genuine. Widowmaker had been inches from extinguishing it forever. Never getting to hear it again. 

„Widow? What‘s wrong?“ Sombra sounded worried, almost scared. Her hands cupped Widowmaker‘s jaw, trying to get her to look at her, but Widowmaker pulled away from her. 

„You... you almost...“ Her sentence was broken up by ragged sobs. She couldn‘t bring herself to finish it. The mere thought was threatening to overwhelm her. 

„I almost lost you.“ It came out barely intelligible, but Sombra seemed to understand. When Widowmaker stole a glance at her from between her fingers, her face had gone soft, something disturbingly like pity in her dark blue eyes. 

„But you didn‘t. I‘m still here. I‘m right here, okay?“ This time, she was the one who was holding a trembling Widowmaker, fingers combing through her soaked hair, whispering soft words of reassurance into Widowmaker‘s ear over and over. Somehow, it didn‘t bring Widowmaker any comfort. It only made her feel colder, in spite of Sombra‘s ever present warmth. 

She didn‘t understand why she felt like this. Where all this pain came from. It was as though a dam had broken deep inside her and everything was spilling out at once. After months, years of feeling nothing but numb, it was too much. 

„Why do you always leave?“, she sobbed, unable to even lift her face from Sombra‘s shoulder and look at her. Sombra‘s fingers halted in their caresses. 

„Why... what?“ 

The water was still running, Sombra‘s confused voice almost swallowed up by the sounds of the drops hitting the floor with a violent prattling noise. 

„You never stay with me. You come here for a night, maybe two, and then you... then you... am I so repulsive that you can‘t even stand-“ 

„Widow, what are you talking about?“ Sombra suddenly pulled away. She looked angry when Widow lifted her head weakly, cold tears running down her cheeks. 

„You aren‘t repulsive, what kind of bullshit is that?“ 

„Then why don‘t you stay?“ Widow hadn‘t realized how desperate her own voice had grown. „Why?“ 

„Because...“ Sombra didn‘t finish her sentence. She let out a loud puff on air and scooted backwards until she was sitting with her back against the wall again, in the corner furthest from Widowmaker. The inches separating them felt like a gaping abyss. 

Sombra hugged her knees to her chest. Her eyes didn‘t meet Widowmaker‘s. „I didn‘t know staying was an option.“

Widowmaker didn‘t reply. She felt her heart beat in her chest. Once. Twice.

„I don‘t know what you want me to say, Widow.“ Sombra didn‘t sound angry anymore. Now she just sounded tired. „You never exactly gave me the impression that you wanted me here for anything other than sex. Thought that was our deal.“ She shrugged half heartedly. Her gaze was fixated on the glass wall of the shower, the patterns the water that hit it painted on the steam covered surface. „Thought if I showed interest in anything more than that you wouldn‘t... you know. Want me at all anymore.“ 

„Do you?“ The words slipped out before Widowmaker could stop them.

„Do I what?“

„Have an interest in other things.“ 

Finally Sombra met Widowmaker‘s gaze again. There was something uncertain in the way she was clearly struggling to keep her face impassive. „Does it matter?“ 

_Yes_ , Widowmaker wanted to say, _yes, it matters so, so much_ , but what came out was a shaky „I don‘t know.“ 

Sombra sighed. „Thought so.“ She started getting up, and suddenly panic seized Widowmaker‘s heart again. Her hand shot out and grabbed Sombra‘s arm before she had time to think about it. 

„Wait. Please.“ 

Sombra waited, but she didn‘t sit back down. Her gaze was hard as she looked down at Widowmaker. 

„I... I don‘t know“, Widowmaker repeated, doing her best not to avert her eyes. „You know I don‘t feel... I don‘t feel like other people do. And it‘s hard... it‘s hard to tell when I care about something, because for most of the time, I just feel numb. Sometimes I don‘t even notice until I lose them- the things that mean something to me.“

She thought of the spider in the dining room window. The words felt heavy on her tongue, and they took too much effort to form, but she forced herself to keep going.

„So earlier, when you said you were cold, when I realized that I put you in danger, that you could have died...“ Her voice broke at that point. But Sombra seemed to understand. Her gaze had softened ever-so-slightly, some of the tension leaving her posture. But it seemed that she was still waiting for something.

Widowmaker took a deep breath. „So, I don‘t know if I can do more. I just don‘t know. But, chérie, I want to try. I want to find out.“ Her throat suddenly felt tight again. She let her arm drop and gingerly touched Sombra‘s hand, no more than featherlight. She could hear her own blood thrumming in her ears, drowning out even the persistent prattle of the shower.

It took several of Widowmaker‘s slow heartbeats, a time that felt like a small eternity. But finally, Sombra let out a breath as if in defeat and laced her fingers through Widowmaker‘s. 

„Okay.“ She crouched back down and scooted forward until she was kneeling on the shower floor right across from Widowmaker again. With her free hand, she lightly gripped Widowmaker‘s chin and lifted it to make her look at her. „So, should I take that as confirmation that you like me for more than just my great boobs?“ 

„Your ass is very nice, too.“ Widowmaker managed to hold Sombra‘s unimpressed gaze for five full seconds before she gave up and looked away, the corners of her mouth twitching. She felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. The smile didn‘t let her suppress it. 

„ _Desolée._ “ 

„Did you just make a joke? That‘s new.“ 

She was right. It was. The clawing in Widowmaker‘s chest was still there, but somehow it didn‘t hurt so much anymore. It almost felt good. 

„Yes. Yes, I like you for more than your great boobs.“ 

Sombra smiled. „That‘s good to hear. You know, I kinda like you for more than that too.“ 

„For more than my boobs? That is not a very high bar, my boobs aren‘t that great.“ 

Sombra rolled her eyes. „First of all, that‘s a lie, second of all, not the point I was trying to make and you know it.“ 

Widow let her head drop forward to rest on Sombra‘s clavicle. „I know“, she murmured. The meaning of Sombra‘s words hadn‘t quite caught up to her yet. All she knew was that it made her heart beat harder in her chest than ever before. And so she decided to focus on more pressing matters.

„Will you stay for longer than a day this time?“

„Yeah. I‘m going to freeze my ass off in this place, but I‘ll live.“ 

Widow pressed soothing kisses to the base of her neck. „I‘m sorry I can‘t warm you up.“ 

Sombra sighed. „It‘s not so bad, you know. In winter, it‘s a bit chilly, but in summer? You‘re like my personal ice pack.“ 

Widowmaker hadn‘t looked at it like that before, but she supposed it was true. „We still have to find a way to keep you warm tonight.“ 

„We could just stay in the shower all night“, Sombra joked, but Widowmaker shook her head.

„The hot water will run out soon.“ She pried herself out of Sombra‘s arms and rose. „You stay here. I‘ll be back right away with something for you to wear.“ 

Back in her room, she went through her closet to try and find something to give to Sombra that was warmer than the cropped shirt she wore under her mission jacket. It wasn‘t an easy search, Widowmaker did not own many warm clothes, but eventually she came upon an old black knitted cashmere sweater that she didn‘t even know she still had. She pulled out a simple t-shirt to wear under it, two pairs of socks, and Sombra‘s underwear and leggings from the floor where they‘d been hastily thrown earlier. Arms full of clothes, she went back into the bathroom, filled with steam at this point. She helped Sombra out of the shower - Sombra was still a bit shaky on her feet, though she insisted she felt fine. After she‘d toweled herself off thoroughly and wrapped her wet hair up in another towel, she got dressed with a bit of effort. Widowmaker‘s sweater was huge on her, but she claimed it was comfortable, and Widowmaker had to admit it looked cute. 

She did not let Sombra walk down the many stairs that led to the library, which held the only still functioning fireplace in the Château, instead carrying her, ignoring Sombra‘s protests. There were several thick blankets on one of the sofas, and Widowmaker wrapped Sombra up in all of them before setting her down on the sofa and getting to work on the fireplace. It took a while, but after a minute or two, she‘d managed to get a small fire going. The room warmed up quickly after that. Sombra insisted that Widowmaker sit on the couch with her, no matter how cold her skin was. Widowmaker didn‘t want to admit that she was glad to get the chance to hold her again, so she just maneuvered Sombra to lean against her chest, wrapped her arms around her and pressed her nose into the back of her neck, absentmindedly watching the fire projecting long shadows onto the parquet floor. 

It took hours until the sun rose again, and neither of them moved. But that was okay. Sombra fell asleep eventually, her head resting against Widowmaker‘s chest, but not before she had promised to take a look at the broken heating in the basement in the morning. She thought she could get it going again with a little time. Widowmaker hoped she would. A part of her still expected her to vanish as soon as she could. 

But Sombra had promised she wouldn‘t this time. And Widowmaker wanted to believe her so bad that she‘d decided to ignore the gnawing worry at the back of her mind. Just for now. 

Maybe the Château wouldn‘t feel so empty anymore. Not even in the winter.

**Author's Note:**

> translations:
> 
> "buenas tardes, araña" - "good evening, spider"
> 
> "desolée" - "sorry"
> 
> oh and also. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE never actually put a hypothermic person in warm water. it's a terrible terrible idea and it can kill them. i learned this during research for this fic but didn't want to let go of the sad shower scene i had in my head so i had widow be incompetent and both of them be unreasonably lucky but this is not real life medical advice DO NOT try this at home kids


End file.
